I Miss You
by Sugar Coated Accident
Summary: Hello, Fred. Are you listening? It's George. I feel like a bloody prat, talking to you in my head like this...but I just...I want to talk to you... I miss you, you know that? TWINSEST;FRated:T


Hello, Fred.

Are you listening? It's George. I feel like a bloody prat, talking to you in my head like this...but I just...I want to talk to you...

I miss you, you know that?

I just, I don't know what to do.

Our friends...they're devistated -- don't know what to do with me...they say I'm not the same... I know I'm not. I never pretend to be -- never even attempt. I know it's no use...

You're not here, and that hurts me. When I'm hurt, how can I be happy? When you're not here to love me, how can I love?

"I love you..."

Isn't that what you used to tell me?

"I love you..."

You'd tease me. Make me laugh. You'd pick me up (literally!!) and show me a world of happiness. Then, you'd say you loved me. (That made me happier then anything ever did. If I heard those words now, heard them from you, I know I'd cry. I'd be so over-joyed, you'd never believe it.) When you'd poke me, tickling my sides, I'd laugh and call you a prick. You know I never meant it, right? I thought, still think, that you're one of the most wonderful, heart-warming people to grace me with their presence.

Now, don't get me wrong. You weren't perfect. You broke my heart plenty of times. But you were always there, ready to pick up the pieces. So, I still hold you high up in my heart.

You were -- in my eyes -- Godly. Your eyes just lit something in me. A fire. No, not of passion or ecstasy, so stop getting an ego, but a fire of love and hope.

I did love you. I did. Well, in all actuallity, I still do. You just...you've opened up a part of me that most likely would have been hidden for ages, if you hadn't of come along.

I do hope. I hope this has all been a dream. That I'll open my eyes, and I won't have to wonder "If you were here, standing beside me, close enough to hold me, would you?" Because you're right next to me, and I had just dozed off.

But, I don't have dreams, you know. Ever since that day, I haven't had any good dreams. Only nightmares. You're always in them. You're always there, laughing and smiling, and I'm happy again. I don't worry about you, or mom, or anyone. I just...I feel loved again. You're there, and I'm whole. But then... But then you disappear -- vanish. And I yell for you 'Where are you?' And sometimes, I hear you laugh or something. Those are the worst ones, the ones when you answer me with that laugh. They mean you're still there, just...just hiding.

I try to be strong. I try to show everyone what you being around me did. How happy it made me, how much life you breathed into me. I'm sorry if sometimes I slip. If I smile to often, giggle to loud. I know that I shouldn't -- can't -- be happy. Not when you're not around. If I am, a little voice in my head calls out, "How could you? Don't you know? He's not here!" over and over and over, until I break down and cry.

I don't know when our relationship changed. I don't remember the day we kissed, but I remember the day I fell in love with you. You were reading.

That's it. Just reading. I think it was the instruction booklet to a ironing spell, to make it even more ridiculous. But that's what it was. We were sitting on our tiny bunk-bed, our knees touching, and you worrying your lower lip as you read. Then, it hit me. I noticed that you were touching your lower lip. You were folding it sort-of. And your eyes were slits, focusing on the words. Suddenly, you looked up, and we returned to our lives. I didn't tell you what I'd discovered. It was to shocking, even for me. I'd fallen for my brother, my twin, my best friend.

I hate myself you know. I really do. I'm alive, and you're not. I managed to live through the war, although, at the same time, I don't think that I did. I don't...I don't _feel_ alive. I feel empty. Like a part of my soul's been ripped out. I know that it has...

Later on, our 'I Love You's were stated often. You'd hug me, and say, "I love you." You'd kiss me, and say "I love you." I'd always agree, let you know that I loved you too, more even, but I don't recall ever initiating it.

I regret that now. I regret not taking you into my arms daily, and informing you how bloody much you meant to me. How my heart would explode with merriment at the mere sight of your eyes. I know I just said it probably a dozen times, but, I'll say it again for good measure.

I love you Fred.

And I miss you.


End file.
